Chapter 68
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Savannah
Any objections?
There’s a crowd in the dorm lobby when I come down from Lacey’s to get something from my closet.
I knew I might have to avoid Anna, but a mob wasn’t on my Bingo card.
On the plus side, no one pays any attention to me when I slip into my old dorm and get the fanciest dress I own, but on the way back up, someone calls my name.
A beanie wearing, very conspicuous someone who nearly has to fight his way through the mob to get to me.
“Maybe I should have called first.” Clay looks apologetic, like he knows exactly what this means for me, but I practically jump into his arms instead of reproaching him. Talking on the phone is nice, but I’ve missed his hugs, especially this past week.
“Come on.”
I drag him upstairs to Lacey’s and bolt her door, not that I think anyone will try to come in, but just in case.
“Do you want me to knock some sense into him?” He asks, probably in reference to the ratty sweatpants I’m wearing.
“He figured it out all on his own,” I assure him. “This was all I had while I went down to get this.” I show him the dress I plan on wearing.
“Wait, you’re back together? And who’s getting married?”
I did originally get the dress for a vow renewal, but I don’t think it necessarily screams wedding.
“The hockey team is having a fundraiser, and I want to surprise Noah at it.”
I explain how Noah showed up last night and bared his heart for me, so I’d like to return the favor.
“By bidding lots of money to save the hockey program?”
“I was actually going to go ask Dallas if he could sign a jersey for me.” The irony is not lost on me, but Noah stopped himself from asking, or even inviting me to this Fundraiser, because instead of putting myself out there and risking getting hurt, I found it easier to stick to the shadows. Which helps no one.
“Et tu, Brutes?” Clay clutches his chest like I’ve stabbed him.
“I would never,” I assure him. “I already have one of your baseball caps in my trunk.”
“Because you carry it everywhere with you or you left it there to die?”
I assume he’s mostly teasing, but I am also aware that like me, Clay has spent his life comparing himself to Dallas, and I never want to contribute to that.
“I brought it from home for Mrs. Jones, but ran into Noah’s mom and completely forgot to give it to her on Tuesday.”
“So you’re heading to Dallas’ hotel?”
“As soon as I change into this dress.”
“I’ll drive you,” he decides. I want to tell him not to worry, but I also want to hang out with him, and I’m pretty sure he would follow me anyway.
So I spend the ride telling him as much about Noah as I would want my brother to know, then let him lead me up to the twenty-first floor, because he’s obviously talked to Dallas since he got in.
“Banana,” Dallas says, taking me in his arms as soon as he opens the door. “Are we jogging or eating ice cream?”
“No need, they’re back together,” Clay walks in ahead of me with a pat on Dallas’ shoulder.
“What? How?”
“Does anyone ever actually want to go jogging? And who would choose it over ice cream?”
“Ice cream feels like a breakup funk while jogging releases endorphins, gives you fresh air, and helps you figure out what you want,” Dallas explains, but I’d still take the ice cream.
“I know what I want,” I tell him. “Can you help me?”
“Anything,” Dallas assures me, before I tell him my plan. “Thank fuck,” is his response.
“Which is why I need to borrow a suit,” Clay says.
“I’ll ask Henderson. He’s got skinny legs too,” Dallas teases.
“You’re just jealous because I’m taller and don’t look like a fridge.”
“What’s happening?”
“We’re coming,” they tell me like it’s obvious.
“You’re…both of you?”
“Any objections?”
A million. I like to cheer people on from the sidelines, to write the stories other people lead, not show up with a pair of pro athletes and be the center of attention…
but they’re not just athletes. They’re my big brothers.
Who I normally wouldn’t want with me when I go surprise Noah, but it’s a fundraiser and Tanner would freak. But mostly…
“Nope. The people I care about should meet the people I care about,” I assure them.
“Give us fifteen minutes,” Dallas requests before going to his bedroom with Clay, because of course, Dallas has a suite.
I fix my hair while they get dressed and am debating if I should attempt more than mascara and lipstick, when there’s a knock on the door.
“I’m told you needed these?” A woman says when I open the door, handing me an envelope and a jersey.
“Thank you so much, you have no idea…I really appreciate it,” I tell her.
“Of course,” she assures me. “What’s the occasion?”
“A fundraiser at my school.”
“I thought Dallas only had one sister?” she asks, following me over to the mirror and taking different containers of makeup my mom gave me for Christmas to apply them to my face.
“Just me,” I agree, not sure why I’m letting her, but it’s not like she asked, and she seems like the kind of girl who gets things handled. “I’m Savannah,” I introduce myself.
“Beth,” she does as well. “Did he request a suit because he’s going with you?”
She sounds confused, and as much as I hate it, I smile. “Him and Clay,” I agree. “Does he tell everyone how pathetic I am?”
“I think he feels guilty more than anything. Asked if there was a way I could make his statement about you only come up when they search your name, not his, to not add extra attention to it. And I’m the team’s unofficial shrink.
I’m a vault and not afraid to tell them when they need a professional. Which most of them do.”
Dallas walks out of his bedroom in a pair of boxers, then spots Beth and immediately shoves Clay back into the room before following him and slamming the door.
“Sorry ’bout that, he’s not usually rude.” I feel the need to apologize. “Or shy,” I add, because I’ve seen him prance around in less, with a bigger audience.
“I’m well aware,” she assures me. I can only imagine what it’s like, dealing with an entire NFL team. Like Ivy House on steroids.
“I made an appointment,” I admit, going back to our conversation. I haven’t told anyone else. “It felt silly, but—”
“I think everyone can benefit from therapy. Even if you grew up with the perfect, most supportive family, there’s always something, and dealing with things is better than letting them fester.”
I let out a breath, relieved. I love my mom, but we aren’t the kind of people who ‘need therapy’. I was happy. My lack of confidence was confusing to her, but she tried to fix it with love, dresses, makeup, and telling me how perfect I am, which hasn’t been working.
“And there you go.” Beth puts the brushes down. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so used to walking into rooms and taking charge, I didn’t even think to ask…”
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.” I look like me, only prettier. The smoky eye is understated, but it makes my eyes pop.
“Let me know if you need anything else. And if you can document Dallas ballroom dancing, I’ll throw in a stadium visit.”
“He’s annoyingly good at it. You can’t even blackmail him with it.”
“So the cocky ego is his only flaw?”
“He’s also overbearingly protective. Unless you’re into that shit?”
She sighs. “I hope tonight’s everything you want it to be.”